Mama Dearest
by im-rogue-storm
Summary: It wasn't the way I thought it would be. It wasn't at all how I wished it could have been." Rogue's memories, starting with the night she received her first kiss...
1. Prelude

OK, everyone. I'm trying this out again. Something about the last try of this story just didn't work out, so I'm trying once more, and then it's going in the dumpster. Why'd I change it? Well, I just wasn't getting enough reviews after the third chapter, and I wanted to change the POV a bit.  
  
Plus a got a very nasty flame, so I wanted to take the good stuff from that and try to fix this all up, although the flamer mostly got ignored, as she was mostly about hubbub and meanness and all.  
  
This first chapter has only been changed a teeny bit with the POV and with Mystique being toned down a bit. I just portrayed her as being too cruel I though after I read it, you know? So all, give us another shot, eh? *makes pathetic puppy dog face*  
  
  
  
Prelude-  
  
It wasn't the way I thought it would be.  
  
It wasn't at all how I wished it could have been.  
  
The setting was perfect: The sky was streaked with pastels, the sun a setting orb on the horizon, the colorful sky above casting a light sheen along the glossy river, the spicy scent of pine wafting around me, the warm feel of his hands on my shoulders.  
  
His eyes were beautiful.  
  
They were so dark, so deep, like they held a vast pool of secrets in them.  
  
He was smiling slightly, his voice coming out as a low, deep hum in my ears.  
  
He gently stroked a stray piece of my hair behind my ear, and I felt his fingers brush my cheek softly.  
  
I blushed, cheeks growing warm, eyes turning quickly to the ground.  
  
He chuckled lightly, making me smile slightly; I loved his laugh.  
  
Then his hand was under my chin, bringing it up, his face leaning in towards mine.  
  
I closed my eyes, heart trilling nervously in my chest, breath starting to come a little faster; this was it.  
  
This was the moment that all girls waited for.  
  
The first kiss.  
  
I'd never really been too anxious about it; I'd always considered myself to be a tomboy, preferring football to flirting and wrestling to kissing.  
  
But now, with my best friend before me, and with his hands cradling my face, and his breath teasing my lips, I just knew that it would be a dream come true.  
  
When our lips touched, a slight spark of electricity scurried through me, leaving me feeling chilled and naïve.  
  
Before long, though, the passion of the moment caught up to me, and any anxiety or fear left my body, replaced with—I could hardly believe—actual love.  
  
I loved this boy.  
  
I smiled as I thought the words, and slowly opened my eyes to see what he was doing.  
  
Immediately, all good feelings disappeared, leaving my blood like ice in my veins and my heart lodged in my throat.  
  
He stood for a minute, face white and lips blue, eyes glued to mine in devastated confusion.  
  
Then he fell back in slow motion, eyes rolling into his head, breath coming out in one last exhale.  
  
I screamed.  
  
That was all I could think to do.  
  
As his head hit the leaf-strewn ground with a light thump, I shrieked loudly, hands clasped at I sides, terror crashing through me.  
  
In an instant, I heard hurried footsteps and worried chatter, and I turned, breathing heavily, eyes wide; they'd kill me.  
  
I'd done it.  
  
I'd touched him...and something had happened.  
  
I could feel him in my head, his presence growing within me, his memories sticking to mine.  
  
My mind was a whirl of color and motion, twisting and turning, making me feel sick.  
  
I tumbled backwards, clasping my hands to my ears as voices began to scream in my head.  
  
I looked around wildly, praying for an escape.  
  
Just as the first person came down the hill towards me, I turned and sped off, shoes kicking up dirt and leaves as I ran.  
  
I ran faster than I'd thought myself capable, faster than I had when I'd raced my next door neighbor, faster than when I'd been caught throwing rocks by grumpy Mrs. Harris, faster even then when I'd been so desperate to catch up with Mommy to go to the store with her.  
  
My legs were soon screaming for relief, and my lungs felt as if they were on fire, but I never stopped, letting my tears roll down my cheeks and my hair be whipped against my face by the wind.  
  
I continued down the street, shoes slapping loudly on the concrete sidewalks, the sun now nearly set beyond the horizon.  
  
The houses lining the street were all empty, every single inhabitant gone on the picnic...which meant everyone knew.  
  
Everyone knew what I'd done.  
  
I sobbed slightly, fighting to keep my balance as I stumbled down the street.  
  
I am Marie—Rogue--and I had never, ever felt so alone and so scared.  
  
Not once had this happened to me, and not a single time had I ever even heard of such a thing.  
  
I'd touched him and absorbed him—his memories, his strengths, weaknesses, talents, personality.  
  
It was driving me insane in only the few moments it had occurred.  
  
I was so confused, even though I was certain of what had occurred.  
  
How could something like that happen?  
  
How could a person take another person's life simply by touching them?  
  
And then a thought occurred to me, and I felt my skin go cold; what if...what if i wasn't just any old person?  
  
What if I wasn't a person at all?  
  
What if I was...a mutant?  
  
It was possible, after all.  
  
My father HAD been one, or so I'd heard.  
  
That was why he'd left me alone with my mother.  
  
I blocked out the thoughts as a sudden realization hit me; no, he hadn't left us.  
  
He'd been killed.  
  
My best friend's father had left his family.  
  
Tears welled up in my eyes again as I thought of him, and I blinked quickly, dispersing them.  
  
He had been my friend since the time I was a baby, and we'd been competing against and wrestling each other since we could walk.  
  
I hated what I'd done to him, even if it was on accident.  
  
I hated the confused look he'd given me, and the way he'd fallen back so slowly.  
  
I hated the way I'd hurt him.  
  
I hated myself.  
  
The thought struck me hard, and I bit my lip, thinking; that was it.  
  
I did hate myself  
  
The feeling of deep-seated anguish and burning terror was rooted from my self-hatred. I couldn't blame myself; not many girls murdered their best friends and life-long 'crushes' during their first real kiss.  
  
Eventually, my fatigue caught up with me, and I collapsed on the sidewalk, still crying.  
  
After a while, I pulled myself up and sat on the curb, chin in my hands, thoughts running around wildly.  
  
  
  
Just down the street, where the shadows of the houses stretched the longest and darkest, a sleek black car inched its way along the sidewalk, the tinted windows letting no one see in, but allowing the attractive blonde- haired woman and her somewhat disfigured driver to see out.  
  
They had been observing Marie for quite some time, and at an order from his mistress, the driver pulled up along the curb a street away from Marie, watching with sweaty palms and trilling heart as the woman got regally out of the car, walking fluidly around the corner to where her prey waited.  
  
Toad sat patiently in the car, staring at his reflection in the mirror.  
  
The only nice way to really describe him was...unique.  
  
With green-tinged skin and spiky emerald hair, he stood out very easily in the crowd. Add to that a sticky, seemingly-endless tongue, crossed eyes, rotting teeth, and a gangly figure, and it isn't hard to figure out why people ran away from him when they saw him.  
  
Toad scowled at his appearance and slammed the mirror away, glancing over his shoulder as he imagined the scene playing out just a block down...  
  
  
  
I knew better than to talk to strangers.  
  
I was a very bright girl, and though I oftentimes rebelled against authority and was often known to leap before looking, I knew how important this rule was.  
  
But this time was different.  
  
The lady before me was beautiful, with long shapely legs, a slender form, and pretty blonde hair that framed her very attractive face.  
  
The woman was very nice, kneeling by me like she was and asking me why I was crying, worried about me being alone like I was.  
  
I was trying hard to reassure the woman, glad that the older female didn't know what kind of monster she was talking to, and thankful that she hadn't pushed the issue of why I was crying.  
  
"Where's your mommy?" the woman asked, wiping a stray tear from my cheek.  
  
"She's back at the picnic...with everyone else," I replied softly, "I...just had to get away from the crowd, that's all."  
  
"Does your mom know where you are?"  
  
Slowly, I shook my head.  
  
"I'd better take you back to the park, so you don't get hurt. Is that ok? Do you feel better now?"  
  
I sighed, nodding; I would have to face the town someday.  
  
Slowly, I stood and took the woman's hand, following her down the street without a backwards glance.  
  
  
  
Toad saw them both coming towards him: His mistress and the little girl, both chatting nonchalantly, the woman leading the girl by the hand into an invisible death trap.  
  
Toad started the car as they neared and unlocked the doors for the lady.  
  
Then he swallowed the lump of guilt in his throat as the door swung open behind him.  
  
He heard a startled cry as the child was tossed carelessly into the car and winced as a shocking thud sounded behind him.  
  
He saw the girl fall against the door as the woman slid coolly into the seat beside her, slamming the door shut as she ordered, "Drive."  
  
Toad pressed hard on the gas as his gaze flickered over to the lady; she was melting.  
  
Toad blinked and shook his head; no, she was only shifting her shape back to normal.  
  
In the backseat, the woman's tanned skin trickled down from her oval face to her slender neck, down her slim stomach and over her shapely thighs before suddenly evaporating at her feet; in its place was a glistening, blue-bathed skin. The attractive attire shrank into flesh and in some places left behind scale-like patches, leaving the tall mutant completely bare.  
  
Curly blonde hair seemed to burst into dark red flames, writhing until they became a straight, silken mane of deep crimson.  
  
Hazel eyes froze suddenly, leaking out and replaced by bright yellow that scintillated with hatred and wickedness.  
  
Toad nodded slightly, "Hey, Mystique."  
  
Mystique looked up at his reflection in the mirror and smirked, "Close the curtain, Toad."  
  
Reaching back, swallowing a little, he pulled the curtain behind him closed, shutting off the view of Mystique turning to the terrified child.  
  
  
  
The darkness of her heart was more than a mere child could interpret.  
  
It was endless and black, wilting into infinite malevolence, marred with pain and hatred that seemed to double with every passing day.  
  
It was like a dark forest; a black sea; a shadowy alley. No light could ever split the waves of black that had long-ago swallowed her soul and had sucked her into a life of endless hate and murder.  
  
To an eight-year-old, she was simply 'scary'.  
  
Someone to avoid at all costs; a monster who hid in your closet and slithered out after everyone but you had fallen asleep; a thing too frightening to speak of; the person that haunted your every nightmare.  
  
Mystique knew she was all of these things to most people...and she was filled with undeniable pride because of it.  
  
She smiled slightly as the girl huddled closer to the other door, hands scrabbling at the door handle, pulling desperately, only then to stop as she realized they were child-proof; that they could only be opened from the outside.  
  
Mystique raised her eyebrows, impressed when the girl then scrambled for the window 'opener'; it was jammed.  
  
Then the child began banging on the glass, gasping with fear, tiny fists pelting the window.  
  
Mystique sat back a little more into her seat, legs crossed regally, hands resting on her knees, a twisted smile on her lips as the girl finally slid down in her seat, staring at her shoes.  
  
She was defeated now; Mystique grinned devilishly, starting to reach out to grab the kid...but wait a minute.  
  
The girl was feverishly ripping one of her shoes off, gripping it firmly, holding it above her head...  
  
WHAM!  
  
The shoe hit the window with surprising force.  
  
The child smashed the glass again and again, until there was the slightest of spider web cracks...  
  
Mystique reached out and clasped the child's wrist.  
  
With unfathomable speed, she twisted, hard, and the girl dropped her shoe, crying out in pain.  
  
Mystique pulled the girl's arm, dragging her closer, reaching out and gripping her chin with her free hand, tilting her head up to eye-level, "Behave yourself, Sweetheart, or I'll have to punish you..."  
  
She tightened her grip on the child's wrist and twisted a little harder during her last words, relishing the exhale of pain that escaped the girl's lips.  
  
Obediently, trembling slightly in fear, the child sat back against the seat, blinking back tears, looking at the ground with a defeated look on her face.  
  
"That's better." Mystique reached over the girl and snapped her seatbelt on, pulling it until it was almost too tight for the child to breathe.  
  
Then she leaned forward, pushing a strand of the child's hair behind her ear.  
  
"You're name is Marie, isn't it?" she whispered.  
  
  
  
I felt my body go rigid as the woman stroked my cheek.  
  
Slowly, I swallowed, heart trilling against my ribs, tears pooling in my eyes, "Y-yes."  
  
I closed my eyes, feeling sick, as a hand moved up to my chin, turning it slightly so I was face-to-face with the lady.  
  
"Well, Marie, didn't your mommy ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"  
  
It was a question not meant to be answered, but only to be taken as punishment; to be heard as a harsh mockery.  
  
"But then...your mommy mustn't be very happy with you right now anyway, right Marie? You just hurt a little boy, didn't you? Maybe even killed him. That wasn't nice, Marie. I don't think your mommy will be very happy when she sees you."  
  
I felt a wail rising in my throat and I swallowed hard, fighting to stay in control.  
  
"I know what happened with him, Marie. All he did was kiss you, so you killed him. You're a very mean girl."  
  
I nodded in agreement, tears stinging my eyes.  
  
"Your mommy doesn't want you any more, Marie. She told me to come and get you and take you away from her. She hates you."  
  
The tears trickled slowly down my cheeks as I hung my head, ashamed; the words broke my heart.  
  
"So I'm here to take you away, to bring you to a place where naughty girls go, so you won't hurt anymore harmless little boys."  
  
In an instant she had me pinned down in her lap with one arm and she was filling a syringe with her hands, eyes focused on the needle as she spoke to me, "I'm going to take care of you now, Marie. You're just a very sick little girl. This is for your own good..."  
  
I saw the needle and started to panic, squirming under her shocking strength and starting to whimper in fear; I had always hated pain, although I pretended not to in front of others.  
  
I started screaming for help, struggling to sit up and escape, panic starting to overhwlem my entire demeanor.  
  
IN th4 front seat, Toad turned the music up louder and started singing along as he drove.  
  
Mystique finished filling the plunger and pressed the air bubbles out, watching the clear liquid trickle seamlessly out of the needle, "This will only hurt for a second, I promise..."  
  
Then one hand was holding my head down and to the side, the side of my neck and causing me to shriek louder with fear and tug desperately at her arm with my hands, begging her not to hurt me.  
  
There was the slightest, fiery prick of pain in my flesh and I cried out louder as the medicine flowed through my blood and to my mind.  
  
Already starting to feel dozy as the needle finally left my skin, I lay limply for a few minutes, the drone of the engine and the hum of music beginning to echo strangely.  
  
Mystique stroked my brow in an almost motherly fashion, looking down at me with a fondness that seemed to have something of a price tag attached to it.  
  
Eventually, my eyes slid closed and I sighed sleepily, slipping into dreamless sleep.  
  
  
  
Eventually, I forgot about the later parts of the day when I put my best friend into a coma.  
  
I forgot about my kidnapping, and how my name went from 'Marie' to 'Rogue'.  
  
I forgot about the news reports or the posters hanging around town that featured my face and asked if anyone had seen me.  
  
I forgot any past family I'd ever had before Mystique.  
  
But I never forgot the look in my best friend's eyes as he fell away from me.  
  
And I never forgot that I was a monster.  
  



	2. Chapter One

Chapter 1  
  
The night air was icy, thick with rain and cold and filled with the sounds of thunder and shrieking wind.  
  
The stars weren't visible, covered tightly by clouds, hiding from the dreadful storm ensuing below.  
  
The rain was pelting my arms and face mercilessly, soaking my clothes and hair and causing them to stick to my skin. The wind drove sharp needles of cold through my bones, but I didn't whimper or make a single sound of complaint.  
  
I kneeled next to my mother obediently, holding stark still and trying to stop my teeth from chattering.  
  
I was barely nine years old, still small and childlike, the memories of life-before-Mystique completely goner from my mind.  
  
My sharp eyes watched the building before me carefully, tracking the many movements of the soldiers and dogs that guarded it.  
  
My mother leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Rogue, you just keep quiet and follow my lead, alright? Don't get us caught or I'll have to hurt you."  
  
I nodded, "Yes, Mama."  
  
I knew she'd never hurt me.  
  
She loved me too much.  
  
But she was still scary, and I wasn't about to test her words.  
  
Mama was not as she normally was; I wasn't used to her new look. Today she was a tall, slender woman with long black hair and dark eyes that pierced through one's very soul. It was hard to stay next to her, she seemed so strange in this appearance, wearing a tight, cutoff shirt and revealing leather pants.  
  
I didn't even recognize myself in the old, worn jacket and dark shorts; I was used to jeans and T-shirts.  
  
However, even though I was freezing and hated the outfit, I dared not disobey Mystique, or even utter a single protest.  
  
I didn't want to get in trouble.  
  
Mystique glanced at me, "You cold?"  
  
I looked up at her, face white and lips turning blue, "I'm ok, Mama."  
  
Mystique smiled slightly as she turned her eyes back to the front gate, where a medium-sized truck was pulling through the gate.  
  
"It's almost time," she said quietly, "You just do everything I say and don't sass me and everything will be fine."  
  
I nodded again, the familiar feeling of anxiety washing over me, "Yes, Mama. I'll listen. I promise."  
  
"Good girl."  
  
I looked up at my mother, shivering, "Mama...?"  
  
"What?"  
  
I bit my lip, pushing my sopping bangs from my eyes, "...will I have to hurt people again?"  
  
Mystique turned to face me, "Baby, I told you, it's not hurting them."  
  
"But...but they always fall down and look like they get hurt when I touch them."  
  
Mystique shook her head impatiently, eyes once again tracked on the truck before her, "You're being silly. They don't get hurt. I told you, it makes them sleepy is all."  
  
I swallowed, inching closer to my mother as my skin began to go numb, "Mama? Do...do I have to go?"  
  
Mystique jerked around, eyes flashing, and I stepped back uncertainly and quickly said, "I just don't...don't want to slow you down, Mama. You...you said I was too slow...and I don't wanna make you go too slow..."  
  
Mystique's livid expression softened somewhat, "Just keep up with me, Rogue. I'd rather you slow me down than stay here."  
  
I slowly reached for my mom's hand, tears starting to bloom in my eyes, "Mama? I'm scared."  
  
Mystique sighed softly and cupped my face in her hands, "What are you scared for? I'm right here. You've never gotten hurt before. Why do you always get scared?"  
  
I sniffled, fighting to keep back tears, "B-because. I don' like doin' this. I don' like hurting people and running and listening to the screams."  
  
"Rogue, would you rather stay out here and make me go in alone?"  
  
My eyes widened and I shook my head quickly, "No, Mama!"  
  
"Would you rather me be all by myself and go in there and get killed because I didn't have help? Do you want that on your head?"  
  
I stifled a sob, letting my head hang in shame.  
  
Mystique shook me lightly, snapping, "Do you?!?"  
  
"No, Mama," I replied softly, tears running down my cheeks.  
  
"Good. Stop cryin', now. Don't do that."  
  
Mystique wiped the tears from my eyes and hugged me briefly, "You're stronger than that."  
  
I wrapped her arms around Mystique's neck, smiling slightly; Mystique hardly ever hugged me, and when she did it was wonderful to feel loved.  
  
The embrace ended quickly though, when Mystique stood abruptly, eyes keenly glued to the building; I recognized that look.  
  
It was time.  
  
Inhaling deeply, I ignored the stinging slap of cold on my face and followed Mystique towards the building, struggling over the wet ground.  
  
  
  
The tunnels were wet and dark, echoing every light drip of water or the slightest breath of an intruder.  
  
The guards were already alert, the news of someone attacking the front gate having spread to them relatively quickly.  
  
They were all marching through the catacombs, the stank water rising to their knees, their startled heartbeats reverberating around the room.  
  
None of them sensed the small hand reaching out to touch their wrists, and when a slight spasm shot through them, they had only enough time to turn and see a little girl before they fell over.  
  
I looked at the two men, feeling horribly blameworthy as Mystique kneeled by them and took their weapons.  
  
A wave of guilt washed over me and I swallowed back tears, remembering to be good for Mama  
  
I felt much better, though, when Mystique glanced up and smiled at me, "Good job, Baby."  
  
I forced a grin, "Thank you."  
  
Mystique straightened and, after sliding a revolver in her waistband, took my hand, "Let's go."  
  
As we traveled down the dimly lit sewage pipes, I clutched Mystique's gloved hand tightly, looking around at the rats and other dead things floating in the water.  
  
"Mama?" I whispered, "Where are we goin'?"  
  
"We're goin' inside. You keep quiet, now. No more talking."  
  
I obediently shut my mouth, ignoring the exhaustion I felt as I struggled through the waist-high water.  
  
Finally, after 'stunning' several more soldiers and being half-dragged through the water by Mystique, I saw a concrete pathway and a ladder that led to a large, metallic door.  
  
"Here we are," Mystique said softly, eyes scanning the ladder cautiously.  
  
"Mama? Can I come in?" I asked softly, the idea of staying with rats and who-knows-what-else beginning to panic me.  
  
Of course, as always, Mystique shook her head distractedly, cocking her gun, "No. Stay here. I'll be back."  
  
As Mystique started to climb the ladder, I rushed forward and grabbed her pants, tugging on them, "Mama? The water's gettin' higher."  
  
Mystique glanced down at me, irritated, "Then stay on the ladder. It'll only take me a second."  
  
I hesitated; I knew Mystique was getting angry, but I was scared.  
  
Eventually, I let my hand drop down and I watched Mystique disappear through the door.  
  
I scrambled up the ladder and sat on a rung, watching nervously as the water continued to rise and the drowning rats screeched and squealed loudly.  
  
Soon, the water had reached my legs, and although I was on the top rung, it continued to rise.  
  
I've always been a pretty tough kid.  
  
Mystique raised me to be brave and to never cry, so I sat obediently on the run for a while, refusing to feel nervous, waiting patiently for Mama to come back.  
  
I was considerably collected, until I saw the bodies floating by.  
  
As any other child would do, I then panicked and stood, pushing at the heavy door above me; it wouldn't budge.  
  
I sat again, kicking at a rat that had been swimming towards me, "Get away."  
  
My breath began to come sharply and painfully as the air around me became moist and odorous.  
  
Slowly, mostly to calm my pounding heart, I softly sang, "You are my sunshine...my only sunshine. You make me happy...when skies are gray..."  
  
The water was up to my waist and still going up.  
  
I swallowed the burning nausea in my throat and choked, "You'll never know dear how much I love you."  
  
My voice echoed innocently through the chamber, hovering softly back to me.  
  
I felt tears rolling down my face as the freezing water reached my chest, "P-please do-n't t-take...m-my sunshine...aw-away..."  
  
My teeth were chattering so hard that my vision was becoming blurred.  
  
The cold on my flesh began to sink in to my blood, coursing throughout my entire body as I clutched at the ladder.  
  
I whimpered, stretching up to keep the water out of my mouth, "Mama!"  
  
I pounded desperately on the door above, gasping for breath as my brain finally lost all serenity and I panicked, "MAMA! HELP MAMA!"  
  
I tilted my head back, the water beginning to close over me.  
  
"MAMA PLEASE!" I sobbed, "DON'T FORGET ME MAMA!"  
  
The water shut over my head and I choked, stagnant water rushing through my mouth and nose to my lungs.  
  
It was at that second that a pair of hands reached down and snatched me up, jerking me out of the water.  
  
I gagged, coughing and spitting the dirty water out, rubbing my eyes and still crying softly.  
  
"It's ok, Rogue. I'm here. I'm right here..."  
  
I looked up and ceased crying, "I thought you left me."  
  
Mystique shook her head, leaning back on her arms, legs still dangling through the opening in the floor, "No, I didn't forget you."  
  
I sighed, the bitter taste of the water still in my mouth, "Can we go home now please, Mama?"  
  
Slowly, Mystique nodded, lifting me out of her lap and standing, "Yes. We can go."  
  
She took my hand and started through the large room, the sound of rushing water all around.  
  
"Mama, did you get what you needed?" I asked.  
  
Mystique nodded slightly, eyes flicking around the space, "Yes. I did."  
  
"Did you get hurt?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did Nana?"  
  
Mystique gently placed a hand over my lips, stopping.  
  
I held perfectly still, ears intently listening for any sound.  
  
Footsteps.  
  
Heavy ones, like boots.  
  
Also, the clanging of weapons.  
  
Mystique swore and drew her weapon, grabbing my wrist and running down a nearby hall.  
  
I fought to keep up, glancing behind me for any sign of soldiers.  
  
At one point Mystique dropped my hand and reached into her pocket, pulling a handful of bullets out.  
  
As she raced through the halls, she shoved the bullets into her gun, cocking it loudly.  
  
Of course she was too busy to notice that I had lagged behind, my small body simply not built to take the strain of constant running.  
  
"Mama! Wait!" I yelled as Mystique turned a corner ahead.  
  
That drew some unwanted attention.  
  
Instantly, the sounds of shouts and running men came closer, and in the next instant three guards appeared at the start of the hall, guns in hands.  
  
Mystique skidded to a stop, cursing under her breath as she swerved around the corner and tackled me down as bullets flew over her head.  
  
I was crying in agony and Mystique, worried I'd been hit, hauled me into her arms and, after warning me to keep my eyes closed, turned and shot a man between the eyes.  
  
I held my face against Mystique's chest, wailing loudly in terror.  
  
Mystique rested her free hand over my ear and shot again, turning and speeding into the next room.  
  
"Rogue, I can't hold you up. Put your arms around me," she ordered loudly as she readjusted my weight to her other side.  
  
I obediently wrapped her arms around my mother's neck, crying into her shoulder, "I wanna go home, Mama! I wanna go home!"  
  
"Yea, me too!" Mystique snapped, turning and firing more shots as several more guards appeared behind her.  
  
She whipped around, listening as an uncountable amount of banging footsteps sounded behind her, and, spying a window, she raced forward, closing her eyes as she yelled, "Cover your head, Rogue!"  
  
In the next instant, I could feel myself being smashed against something that shattered on impact, and I held my arms over my head tightly, trying to ignore the sudden feeling of my heart leaping to her throat.  
  
We were falling.  
  
It was only a short distance, really, but it was enough to make me feel sick.  
  
When we landed, Mystique struggled to her feet, tossing her weapon on the ground and using both of her arms to hold me to her chest.  
  
The men above were shouting, firing out of the broken window, but always missing their targets by at least a foot.  
  
When Mystique reached the truck parked at the front gate, she slid into the passenger side, slamming the door shut as she shrieked, "GO!"  
  
The car revved up and sped off, the squealing of tires piercing my ears as we jolted forward.  
  
After a few minutes, I felt Mystique's tense body relax, and I looked up, eyes still shut, "Can I open my eyes, Mama?"  
  
Mystique chuckled, "Yea. Go ahead."  
  
The first thing I saw was Mama, not in disguise at all, but in her true form.  
  
I grinned in relief, "Hi."  
  
Mystique brushed her hair back and leaned against her seat, sighing, "Destiny, hand me a cigarette, I have a migraine."  
  
I slid from her Mama's lap into the seat between Nana and Mystique, buckling myself in, "Hi, Nana."  
  
"Hi, Rogue."  
  
Destiny turned onto a wider road, obviously more relaxed, "Did you get it?"  
  
"Course I did."  
  
Mystique lit her cigarette and took a long drag from it, placing her arm around me and hugging me to her, "Thanks to Rogue, everything went great."  
  
I beamed proudly, cheeks burning slightly from embarrassment, "Thanks, Mama."  
  
In an instant, my near-drowning, the bullet that had nearly ripped through me, and the leap through the window were forgotten; they always were, once Mystique gave me a compliment.  
  
I'd do anything to make Mama proud.  
  
Sleepily, I leaned against Mystique, closing my eyes as I yawned, "Night, Mama."  
  
"Night, Baby."  
  



	3. Chapter Two

Hello Loving Reviewers!  
  
I'm sorry if this A/N seems rushed.it is. Teehee. Boy, I really need ideas for this story, so go ahead and SUBMIT folks!  
  
Goddess of Lurv (who shall form now on be known as Numeral Uno, because of how she was my first reviewer and always manages to review my stories before most anyone else): My dear friend, how SWEET of you to review! Very good to hear from you! *cackles* Yes. Mystique IS evil. MWAHAHAHA! Bad girl. *slaps Mystique* *winces* Whoops. I worte her that way.hmm. Don't worry, she does have a heart.for herself. Teehee. NO, seriously, she does, as you'll see in this chapter (sorta). Oh, don't wory. I DO live in front of my computer. Lol.  
  
Vamp: Hello, Vamp. I like your username. Does it stand for vampire? I'm glad you like Mystique evil! I do too. As you can see, haha. Got any ideas for the next chapter?  
  
L: WAHOO! I LOVE IT! Username sweet and simple! Lol. My dear,m dear friend, you're questions are mine to answer! The X-Men, she will meet. She WILL discover how unfair her life is. Ther may be a small smidgen of romance ;-) with a surprise stranger ;-). Keep up the reviews, eh? Nad thenx for the ideas!  
  
EternalEvanescent: Ello ello! Ha! MYSTIQUE IS CRUEL! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes I did portray her as cruel, huh? *ponders chapter* Perhaps I went a cit far.Nah. It's all a large part of Rogue's future! HA! Tis all a part! MWAHAHAHA! Ok. Sorry. Bit hyper. Wow. I made you feel my story? For real? COOL! Thanks! I'm so flattered! Awww *pats Pixie's shoulder* *Mystique turns around and whallops Pyro and the head. Twilight immeidtaly screams at her and slaps her. An all-out fight ensues*  
  
Now then, all my lovely friends. Here is the moment you've all waited for:  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Rogue had never thought of her mother as 'bad'.  
  
She'd never considered her to be a villain or murderer.  
  
Of course she knew that she had to 'hurt' people when they 'crossed' her, but that didn't lower her standing in Rogue's eyes.  
  
To Rogue, Mystique was an idol, a perfect role model, someone to strive to be like.  
  
In her daughter's eyes, Mystique shone brightly with an aura of mystery and intrigue, and every word she spoke was filed away in the child's brain for later reference.  
  
Rogue admired her mother to no end.  
  
Even on bad days.  
  
Rogue was nine years old when her mother first hit her, and even then it hadn't been exactly scarring to her childhood.  
  
In fact, Rogue felt that she had deserved it, and thought nothing more of it after the incident.  
  
On that day Rogue was sitting at the table, pushing her cold eggs around on her plate while Mystique washed the dishes, "Mama? Do I have to eat these?"  
  
Mystique never turned from the sink as she replied, "Yes."  
  
"But.they're cold."  
  
"I said eat them."  
  
Rogue stuck her lower lip out, sulking as she picked up a chunk of egg and dropped it back on her plate, "It looks like goop. Ooey, gooey, yucky g-"  
  
"Shut your mouth and eat!" Mystique snapped, slamming her hand on the counter.  
  
Rogue stared at her mother's back for a minute, and then, making a face, took a bite of egg; she almost gagged.  
  
Like any other child, she tended to be slightly overdramatic when it came to eating hated foods, and she hurriedly lifted her cup to her lips and gulped down some milk, sticking her tongue out in disgust, but saying nothing; she didn't want to get Mystique angry again.  
  
When she'd managed to force down the rest of her lunch, she brought her plate up to Mystique and dropped it on the counter before turning and starting to walk away.  
  
"Get your cup," Mystique reminded her impatiently as she ran her daughter's plate under the running water.  
  
"Nana never makes me get my cap!"  
  
"I'M not nana. NANA is at the store. Now go get your cup!"  
  
Rogue sighed, irritated and anxious to go play, and hurriedly reached for her cup.  
  
In one heart-stopping moment, her fingers tipped the glass over the edge of the table and it fell, milk and all, to the floor, shattering.  
  
Rogue jumped back, shocked, watching in awe as her milk ran over the just- mopped floor.  
  
Mystique swore and grabbed a towel, rushing forward and pressing it to the tile; with a startled cry she jerked her hand back, swearing again as she jerked the piece of embedded glass from her hand.  
  
Rogue was backed against the counter, her heart beating wildly against her ribs as Mystique stood and placed her hand in the sink, holding her fingers over the cut.  
  
Rogue slowly wandered over, looking into the sink and murmuring, "Sorry, Mama. I'll clean it up."  
  
"Don't go near it, you'll cut yourself," Mystique replied stridently, wincing as she let water run down her hand.  
  
"Does it hurt, Mama?"  
  
"Of course it hurts!"  
  
Rogue bit her lip, hurt at her mom's sharp tone, and hung her head.  
  
"Get me the broom," Mystique said, returning to the mess waiting for her.  
  
Eager to help, Rogue rushed to the pantry and grabbed the broom, miscalculating its weight as she jerked it towards her.  
  
In an instant it crashed to the floor, smacking a pile of plates on the counter and bringing them tumbling down with it.  
  
Rogue jumped back as an explosion of glass greeted her.  
  
Mystique snapped.  
  
Getting to her feet, she stormed over to Rogue and grabbed her wrist, pulling her roughly forward, "Rogue, can't you do a thing right? Why aren't you more careful?!?"  
  
"Mama.you're hurtin' me!"  
  
"Now I have MORE to clean up! Is this what you wanted? IS IT?!?"  
  
"Mama!" Rogue whimpered, pulling at her arm.  
  
"Why do you have to make everything so difficult?"  
  
"MAMA!"  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
Mystique's hand came down in a flash, streaking smartly across Rogue's cheek with enough force to whip the child's head around into the counter.  
  
Rogue's shrieks of pain filled the air as Mystique dropped her arm, stunned at her own act.  
  
Blood oozed between Rogue's fingers as she held her hand to her face, sobbing in fear.  
  
"God.lemme see it," Mystique ordered, reaching for Rogue's hands.  
  
Rogue stepped back quickly, shaking as she wailed.  
  
"Let me help you, Rogue! Let me see! What's bleeding?"  
  
Rogue shook her head, backing against the far wall, hands drenched in blood.  
  
Mystique, more panicked now but still agitated, reached forward and snatched the girl's hands away from her face, trying to see what was hurt. After she saw it was her nose, she reached up to the counter and brought down a cloth, holding it to her daughter's face, "Here.it's ok.it's not broken."  
  
Rogue continued screaming as though her face had been beaten in, eyes filled with more hurt and fear then Mystique had ever seen.  
  
"I'm sorry," Mystique said softly, reaching out and stroking Rogue's cheek, "I'm sorry, Baby.I didn't mean to."  
  
Tears bloomed in Mystique's normally cold eyes and she blinked them back hurriedly.  
  
Mystique never apologized, so that in and of itself was a miracle, and when she reached forward and held her daughter to her chest, Rogue didn't struggle to escape; her anxiety was still fresh in her mind, but even she knew that sometimes a mother is the only one able to heal pain.  
  
  
  
Even after that day in the kitchen, Rogue's admiration for her mother never wavered.  
  
Never once did her mom's high pillar tumble.  
  
Not a single time did Rogue's brightly shining eyes turn in shame from Mystique.  
  
Never.until the dark, oppressive night of her eleventh birthday.  
  
It was another 'mission' night, and Mystique had told Rogue that there was someone she needed to 'talk with'.  
  
Of course, Rogue had needed to tag along, just in case anyone needed to be 'dealt with', so that was why she found herself sitting between Destiny and Mystique in the stifling hot truck traveling through the twisting roads.  
  
It was uncomfortable and boring, the worst birthday she'd ever imagined having, but she never complained as Mystique took her hand and half-dragged her in the shadows of a dark, enormous mansion. They didn't say much to each other; only the occasional, "Not so loud," "Yes, Mama".  
  
Luckily, by the time they made it to the dank, stuffy cellar, they had met no one, and Rogue was given permission to wait on the stairs.  
  
"Least there's no water here," Rogue muttered, watching Mystique disappear into the house.  
  
The cellar smelled strongly of spices of wine and was hotter than blazes, and Rogue squirmed uncomfortably, sweat trickling slowly down her back and face.  
  
She licked her lips, breathing in the stank air and sighing, looking up at the ceiling, "What kinda birthday is THIS?"  
  
She wished beyond all hope that she could go outside and sit in the cooler air, but she knew that she couldn't; if Mystique found out, she'd skin her alive.  
  
"'What if someone found you?'" she mimicked softly, lifting her sweaty hair off of her shoulders and fanning herself with one hand.  
  
She smiled then and shook her head; Mystique only said that because she loved her.  
  
And she was only doing this mission tonight because she had to.  
  
She was only putting food on the table.  
  
Rogue felt a wave of guilt crash over her; how could she have been so ungrateful?  
  
She bit her lip and wiped the sweat from her face, sitting up straighter; she would sit here all night if need be, just to help her mom.  
  
She had to do something to show her appreciation.  
  
Eventually, though, the heat starting to slowly drip into her senses, causing her brain to fog and her body to slowly fall over in exhaustion and sickness.  
  
Throbbing nausea rose in her throat and the room swam before her eyes, and that was when she stood and stumbled towards the door, "I gotta get outta here."  
  
When her hand touched the cool metal knob she turned it and thrust her weight against the door, falling into the room beyond and immediately feeling a gust of cool air run over her.  
  
After a few seconds, she regained her senses and stood, looking into the house.  
  
It was very nice, elegant but rather informal, with many narrow hallways and doors.  
  
Rogue wandered down a corridor, sweeping her hair back with her hands, eyes flicking in amazement from one room to the next; she'd never been in such a huge house.  
  
Then, panicked voices caught her attention, and she turned towards them, eyes spotting a flight of stairs nearby; her heart stopped as she heard a gunshot followed by a blood-curdling scream.  
  
She stepped back a few paces, swallowing, and then, overcome with morbid curiosity when she heard her mother's voice, she gradually stepped onto the staircase.  
  
The voices became louder, growing from a blur of jumbled noise to distinct words:  
  
"Please.don't do this! I promise.I'll pay you right now!"  
  
"I gave you your chance, Peters, now it's too late."  
  
"I.I didn't have the money then! You have to understand.it was Molly's bill.her hospital bill.she was just so sick, I-"  
  
"So you paid for all of her bills and forgot about more pressing matters. I see."  
  
"No, no! I.I paid her bills.and I had the money for you, I did! But then.then she."  
  
The man's voice broke, and as Rogue reached the top of the stairs she saw a dimly lit room ahead and could faintly make out the outline of Mystique in the doorway.  
  
Rogue's heart lodged in her throat; her mama was holding a gun.  
  
The man continued at last, tearfully, "She died, and I had.had to pay for her funeral..!"  
  
"Her funeral?"  
  
"Y-Yes."  
  
"Now, that could have waited, Peters."  
  
There was another gunshot, and Rogue jumped as the man gasped in pain again.  
  
"You could have paid ME first, put your wife under the bed, saved up your money, and THEN paid for your precious FUNERAL. If you'd done THAT, things would have worked out MUCH more smoothly. You see, Peters, I'm a mother. I have a child, and I have to provide for her. You don't make it very easy when you withhold much-needed money for some woman's funeral."  
  
"Y-yes, I understand.pl-please.don't.I'll.I'll make it up to you."  
  
"Oh, Darling, it's far too late for that now. But don't worry. Killing you will be enough payback for me."  
  
Rogue stood frozen, breath stopping, blood freezing, as Mystique cocked her gun, aimed, and, despite the man's final; screamed pleas, shot.  
  
His final shriek was cut short.  
  
Rogue stood quivering as Mystique scoffed, shaking her head and sliding her gun into her waistband as she turned into the hallway.  
  
When she caught sight of her daughter, all color drained from her face.  
  
The two stared at each other, and in those few seconds that seemed to last a century, Mystique saw years of endless respect and awe disappear form her daughter's eyes and be immediately replaced with confusion and horror.  
  
Then Rogue screamed, sharp and clear, unable to respond any other way.  
  
Mystique rushed forward, clasping a hand over her daughter's mouth and pressing her against a wall, listening with baited breath and thudding heart  
  
Rogue struggled against her, shrieking into her hand, pulling at her arms, pushing against her, begging to be freed.  
  
Mystique hushed her sharply, "Stop it! You'll get us caught! IT was enough with that stupid Peters screaming! The neighbor's have probably already called the police, you want them to-"  
  
"We have you surrounded! Come out now with your hands up!"  
  
Mystique seemed to freeze for an instant, completely out of ideas.  
  
She gazed at Rogue, lost, almost afraid.  
  
Then she smiled, skin shifting to that of a young, handsome man.  
  
She spoke in his voice, keeping her hand over Rogue's mouth, "Why don't you come in here and get me?!?"  
  
There was a short silence, and then, ".Peters?"  
  
"Whaddya want?"  
  
"We.we thought.are you ok?"  
  
Mystique laughed cruelly, "Sure I am. If I were you, I'd be more worried 'bout this poor little girl here."  
  
"Girl? What girl?"  
  
"Dunno who she is. Just some stupid kid that's come wanderin' in. I say she's a trespasser. I'm gonna give her the death penalty."  
  
There was a panicked outcry, and the officer shouted, "Peters, have you gone berserk?!?"  
  
"Dunno. Maybe dear Molly's death was just too much. All's I know is that this kid's gonna get it."  
  
Rogue pushed harder against Mystique's chest, blinking back tears.  
  
"Now, Peters.don't do anything stupid...why don't you come out here so we can see you.?"  
  
Mystique chuckled, shaking her head as she jerked Rogue to her chest and ambled out to the nearby balcony, which was illuminated by the flashlights and spotlights of police.  
  
Rogue squinted in pain as the lights hit her and closed her eyes, feeling sick.  
  
".Peters? Whatcha want with that little girl?"  
  
"Peters' shrugged, "Dunno. Maybe I oughta shoot her."  
  
In the next instant, Rogue felt the cool metal of her mother's gun against her head and she whimpered shrinking away from the weapon instinctively.  
  
"Peters.now, c'mon. Don't do that."  
  
"Why not? Why shouldn't I?'  
  
"What'd she ever do to you? Why you wanna hurt her?"  
  
"I feel like it."  
  
"Well then, hurt someone who deserves it, Peters! Go hurt someone who's done somethin' wrong, like a criminal of some sort! Just leave the kid outta this!"  
  
"You want me to hurt someone who deserves it?"  
  
"Yea! Just let the kid go!"  
  
"Let 'er go?"  
  
The crowd below shouted a chorus of agreement.  
  
"Alright. I'll let her go.  
  
Rogue felt herself being shoved backwards, into the house and onto her back.  
  
As she watched, Mystique-Peters held the gun to her-his head and grinned insanely, "I'll kill someone who deserves it."  
  
For an instant, Rogue wanted to scream for her mother to stop, that she still loved her even though she'd done such a bad thing.  
  
But then Mystique stepped back into the shadows, still grinning, still holding the gun.  
  
The police were yelling at her to stop, not to shoot.  
  
Mystique lowered the gun to the floor and shot, sliding it into her waistband, turning, and hurriedly lifting Rogue to her feet, "Let's go."  
  
  
  
The night of Rogue's eleventh birthday was forever etched into her mind.  
  
It was added to her mental file of most hated memories and was never forgotten, but somehow aided in her lifetime purpose, just like everything else.  
  
On the way home that night, Rogue was silent, thinking back on how her mother had cleverly tricked the cops into believing Peters had killed himself.  
  
It really had been ingenious and well though-out.  
  
If only she could have believed it herself.  
  
If only she hadn't seen the truth.  
  
Rogue had seen a part of Mystique that she wished had never existed.  
  
It was a part so dark and so purely evil that it hurt to see.  
  
Rogue couldn't think on it too long without feeling sick, so she pushed it from her mind and chose to 'forget' it, leaning against her mother's shoulder and drifting into dreamless sleep as they drove home in the small, boiling hot car.  
  



End file.
